On a quiet night in his 24th year and 1,609th month, Gerard sat on the steps of the high platform, gazing at the adventurers lining up for their blessings. His mind drifted back 134 years to a younger version of himself.
At the age of 25, Gerard had barely passed the entrance exams for the third time, finally gaining admission to the Research Institute—a feat achieved just before reaching the theoretical age limit for humans. But academia didn't interest him. Instead, he joined the Inquisition as a low-ranking hunter.
His mentor was a laid-back member of the Blood Saint Clan, known for his constant smoking and his uncanny ability to need a restroom break whenever paperwork was due. This earned him the nickname "Bathroom Hunter." Despite his flaws, the mentor gave Gerard a crash course on reality.
Hunting wasn't a glamorous profession. Most of their work involved dealing with mundane, petty grievances. In a society riddled with discrimination—racial, gender-based, and class-related—many people weren't evil but were as annoying as fish bones in rice: small but persistent irritants that slowly choked the soul.
After long enough, those metaphorical bones collected in Gerard's throat, leaving him yearning for a reckoning. His mentor, perceptive despite his nonchalance, would occasionally drag Gerard to tea cafes or casinos to relieve his stress. While Gerard usually declined, the man's scruffy, unkempt grin often dispelled his gloom.
One day, both were assigned to a special task force to eliminate the Cult of the Four Pillars. At first, Gerard dismissed the cult as a trivial nuisance. Under the benevolent gaze of the Blood Moon, evil was like puddles after rain—destined to evaporate under the sun.
But the operation quickly unraveled. Their forces were split, and cult members launched suicidal attacks to take down hunters with them. By the time they reached the cult leader's hideout, only Gerard, his mentor, and another veteran hunter remained.
The mentor ordered Gerard to stand guard outside, ensuring no one escaped and providing early warnings.
It was a reasonable directive, leaving Gerard no room to refuse. The mentor, perhaps sensing Gerard's eagerness for glory, offered a reassuring grin.
"You'll get your chance to lead one day. For now, let me have my moment to shine. If anything goes wrong, just make sure you're ready to save the day."
Even in the tense atmosphere, the mentor's humor lightened Gerard's mood. He watched as the two hunters entered the shadowy room, lanterns held high.
One minute passed. Then two. Then three.
Silence. Gerard couldn't wait any longer. Gripping his lantern, he stepped into the darkness.
The room seemed to devour light; the lantern's glow barely penetrated the oppressive shadows. Gerard's nerves frayed further when his steps landed in something wet—blood.
Looking down, he saw a stranger's corpse. Following the trail of crimson, he found his mentor and the veteran hunter locked in a fatal embrace. The mentor's teeth were buried in the other man's throat, even as a blade pierced his heart.
"How beautiful. Don't you agree?"
The stranger's corpse spoke.
Gerard fell back in terror, pointing his gun at the body.
"I'm unarmed and no mage," the corpse said with a smile. "No need to be so nervous. Pull the trigger, and I'll die."
"You… They… What happened?!" Gerard stammered.
"The vampire feared the hunter would strike first, so he attacked preemptively. The hunter retaliated, and here I am, caught in the middle of it all."
"You're lying!"
The corpse tilted its head. "So certain, are we? Anything that contradicts your worldview must be false, yes? I admire that linear thinking."
"But tell me, why does the Cult of the Four Pillars exist?"
"Desire!" Gerard spat, his voice trembling with fury. "You're demons, tempting people with sinful cravings—"
"Peace of mind," the corpse interrupted, placing a hand over its chest. "People seek strength, intelligence, admiration, happiness… All in pursuit of comfort. The Four Pillars merely answer their prayers."
"Those two sought solace, and it led them to kill each other. Without this release, their inner darkness would have consumed them."
"Lies!"
"Oh, but you agree with me, don't you, Hunter Gerard? You're perceptive enough to notice the tension between your mentor and the veteran. Their unspoken history wasn't lost on you…"
"Shut up!"
"You also know your mentor's vices—his smoking, his lethargy, his disheveled appearance—all stem from a shadowy past. His smiles barely masked the growing madness within…"
"I said SHUT UP!"
Gerard pressed his gun to the corpse's forehead. Unperturbed, it traced crimson streaks beneath his eyes, mimicking tears.
"Rainwater may evaporate under the sun, but some sinks into the soil, nourishing the earth. And even evaporated rain does not vanish—it cycles back, awaiting the next storm. Rain never ceases, Gerard, because you exist, because I exist."
"In a world where laws are blades, crime is not a sin."
"So tell me, Gerard, who are you crying for?"
Bang!
The corpse fell silent.
Other hunters arrived belatedly, signaling the operation's end.
One Hundred Years Later
The memory lingered like a ghost. Gerard had grown into a reckless, irreverent figure, yet he had also become strong. He had thought himself content to drift in the indulgent pleasures of Kaimon City, until a name resurrected buried memories.
Volunteering himself, Gerard meticulously planned and executed the complete annihilation of the reborn Cult of the Four Pillars. This was his attempt to atone for past failures.
But there was no satisfaction in the victory.
The current leader of the cult was laughably weak—naïve, uncertain, soft-spoken, and about as threatening as a freshly graduated student. Capturing him was no harder than cornering a stray cat.
When Ash claimed to have amnesia during his interrogation, Gerard had immediately believed him. It was obvious that Ash had been used as a scapegoat by some unseen manipulator.
It wasn't until Professor Shearing approached Gerard, warning him of Ash's latent dangers, that he began to reconsider. Even then, it had seemed unlikely. But the series of events that followed—the prison break, the control of Lakebreak, the Blood Moon trial, Shearing's disappearance…
The truth was clear.
Minutes ago, Gerard had received confirmation: Shearing, head of the Elven Rights Association, was missing and presumed dead.
The realization hit Gerard like a thunderclap.
Under the serene glow of the Blood Moon, he felt as if he'd stepped back into that suffocating room from a century ago.
Ash Heath wasn't merely a pawn or an unlucky victim. He was chaos incarnate, the hidden leader of the Four Pillars, a vortex of disaster.
His very existence sowed ruin.
"Just like before…" Gerard muttered to himself. "Am I only fit to clean up the aftermath?"
Suddenly, a commotion broke out in the blessing queue.